


from way up there, you and i, you and i

by oncelived



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, i need more muslim claude, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24090991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncelived/pseuds/oncelived
Summary: modern au - it's ramadan and dimitri just wants to help his roommate.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 79





	from way up there, you and i, you and i

**Author's Note:**

> i have this in my draft for days, i need to finally let it out. also, it's ramadan obviously i have to write something about this. sorry for the no beta thing, we die like men, i guess.

There are hands reaching out to him from beneath the bed. These hands are dripping with blood, with visible scars along the arms. Long nails attempting to grip tight onto his wrist, wanting nothing but to drag him down to the abyss with them. This is a nightly occurrence; one he has whenever he has managed to get sleep instead of pulling an all-nighter.

He knows that this is just a dream. A repetitive nightmare he never learns to live with but has finally gotten used to. He wants to wake up. He needs to wake up. Otherwise the hands would catch him, and he will wake up being imprisoned inside the dark, calamitous cave where the ghosts living inside his mind would torment him relentlessly. His sanity will be stripped away one by one and then——

He wakes up to the sound of kitchen utensils hitting the floor.

It does not sound like any of the glasses break. Still, it does not guarantee that the items are entirely safe from the fall, judging by how loud the noises were. At least the sound of the utensils falling off to the floor are loud enough to somehow rouse him awake, escaping from the hands (this time closer than it was from when the last time he slept at night) that had almost got a hold of his wrist. He takes a moment to stare up at the ceiling all the while he is trying to regain control of his ragged breathings. His shared apartment is safe. He knows the sound in the kitchen can only be caused by the other occupant of the apartment. Trusting his roommate to not do anything more reckless than causing the aluminum utensils to somehow hit the floor like moments ago, he decides to take a breather—he needs to feel more awake if he wants to communicate with Claude.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock in his room continues ticking, he mirrors the sound of it in his mind, an attempt to put his thoughts at ease.

His roommate is cooking something. He notices this as his ears pick up the sound of the microwave being turned on, the fridge's door being opened, and a tired whistle coming from said roommate. Six months of living together has made its result as Dimitri knows that only one certain Claude von Riegan who would whistle to this song, somewhat a reassurance that the person out in the kitchen right now is not a suspicious stranger but just his roommate. Claude had explained to him a few months back that the song came from Almyra, a simple local lullaby Claude would sing whenever he feels homesick.

His hand clutches his chest, the beat of his heart is no longer racing, and he has successfully controlled his breathings now. He should check the kitchen now that he is in a stable state, after all, he needs to ask Claude the reason behind him cooking at two in the morning. Dimitri lets his feet touch the floor, the coldness of the wooden floor somehow a good sensation. Almost like a gentle reminder that he is now back to the land of living, no longer being chased off by the phantoms and their wounded hands that reside in his mind.

\--

Claude has his attention on Dimitri already by the time he exits his room, the green in his optics a darker shade due to the small amount of light at the time. He has a spatula in his grasp, one hand is on his hip as if he is already expecting Dimitri to be awake. Dimitri’s eyes blink, almost like a deer caught in the headlights— trying to take in the view in front of him that isn’t his roommate and his spatula. Claude doesn’t turn on all the lights, simply just the small and dim one near the fridge. Behind him, Dimitri notices that the stove is on and the frying pan is on it.

“I woke you up, didn’t I?” Claude is the first one to speak between the two of them, a tired smile is present on his face before he turns around to focus on whatever it is he is cooking. “Sorry, if I did, I’m usually not as clumsy but then again, this is the first day of Ramadan so I have to try and adjust to everything again,” He explains, his spatula stirring a scrambled egg on the frying pan. Dimitri is still too lethargic to process whatever the other had explained, by contrast, he has his gaze focused on the spatula’s movement.

“Dimi—Dimitri, are you hungry?” The inquiry falls easy, it causes him to raise his head and meet Claude’s gaze. Despite the obvious drowsiness, he can see that the other is concerned. Did he shout when his nightmares tried to take him over? Could it be that Claude is awake because of him screaming in his dreams? Because, if he didn’t then, why would Claude be concerned when he was the one who dropped a kitchen utensil (which, upon realization is now most likely the frying pan on the stove) on the floor earlier.

“—No,” Is what he said, turning his gaze away and onto the dish now set on the plate. “Did I wake you up?” He asks, finally settling down on the couch, Claude following him soon after with his plate filled with leftover rice and the newly made scrambled eggs. The moment he is able to take a glance of Claude’s visage, there is this one look he has upon hearing Dimitri’s inquiry, one that Dimitri cannot seem to decode what, and one that seems to fade quickly too.

“Wh—why would you think so? My alarm woke me up, Dimi—” Right, so this confirms that he did not sleep-talk through the nightmare sequence in his sleep. Though, knowing how Claude can be so convincing when hiding something. “I have to wake up, it’s Ramadan,”

Oh. He says the word again. This time, with sleep finally slipping from his mind, Dimitri is more awake than before as he is now able to know that it isn’t something he has heard before.

“Rama—what?”

“Ramadan, the holy month where we are required to fast and supposedly do good,” Claude explains, keeping his gaze on Dimitri as he eats his meal.

There is something in the way Claude looks at him this time. It is how despite the dimmed lights, the green in his eyes almost twinkle like emeralds. Dimitri has heard of it, maybe back then in middle school during some studies about other religions. Though, he has never really met anyone who actually practices it. Well, until now. The twinkle in the other’s eyes seems enough to cause Dimitri to look away the moment he realizes he has been dazed by them.

He can hear a faint chuckle coming from Claude, but he doesn’t say anything, rather than that, he continues eating while waiting for Dimitri to say something, or maybe for himself to figure out what else to say. It is how it is, Claude has always been the most active one in conversations between the two of them.

“We learned about that in school, but I never knew anyone who practices it,” He opts to say instead, the raise of one of Claude’s eyebrows is enough of an encouragement for Dimitri to continue, “Until now, I suppose—it’s interesting, do you need help?”

The question seems rather unexpected because when Dimitri gathers his courage to look into Claude’s eyes again, his eyes widen, like he is now the deer in the headlights. Then, as usual to how easy it is for Claude to mask his feelings, he smiles. Bright and genuine—six months of knowing Claude and Dimitri can tell that this is probably the third time he has witnessed the smile, it’s that one rare smile of his.

“If you can cook Almyran foods that would be great,” A pause, but Claude adds rather quickly before Dimitri can answer to the suggestion, “Wait, no, that’s a joke, you don’t have to,”

There is something that intrigues him in that statement, Dimitri’s eyebrow elevates, almost mirroring the way Claude looked at him moments ago. “You can’t cook Almyran dishes?”

At his question, Claude snorts, shaking his head as he finishes off his meal, now with the empty plate in his lap. “Funnily enough, this was supposed to be the year where my mum will teach me all she has learned about cooking Almyran dishes,” Dimitri doesn’t need to ask ‘why’ to know the reason behind Claude’s trip back to Almyra being cancelled. He hums out a response, a sign to tell Claude that he doesn’t need to explain further if he doesn’t want to. Which by the smile on Claude’s face—he seems to get it.

“Maybe I can taste-test for you?” He offers. Knowing Claude, the other has probably been preparing himself to watch all those cooking tutorials on youtube. Plus, Dimitri does notice how there has been an increase of traditional ingredients in the cabinet as well as the fridge, his roommate must have planned to cook Almyran dishes by the looks of all those, judging by how some ingredients seem foreign for Dimitri to see. Then again, he is the type to cook all the instant or fried-only frozen foods, which is why Dedue sometimes would visit his and Claude’s apartment to bring him some ‘proper’ food.

“Can you, really?” There is a hint of teasing in his tone, and Dimitri rolls his eyes at it.

“Of course I can, especially considering how many ingredients you have stocked, I’m certain I can feel the texture of the dishes enough to tell you whether the taste is good or if there is something you should add,” He says in return, arms crossed over his chest as Claude lets out a chuckle.

“Alright, considering I can’t exactly taste it until after iftar, I might as well take the offer,” Claude replies eventually, stifling a yawn right after he says so. Right. Dimitri just remembered that they are in the middle of the night—probably around two or three in the morning. He should probably go back to sleep too, Claude looks like he is about to do the same after eating his meal.

However, the specters might be awaiting for his return still, making him feel unsettled about going back to sleep. He can feel them in the corner by the window, watching his every movement, ready to pounce whenever he drifts off to his doze. Dimitri’s grip on his knee tightens without him fully realizing, suddenly—his mind seems to work in fear. Fear of the hands coming after him, gripping tight on his wrist, causing it to bleed. And then he’ll bleed out as they drag them away from reality, then he will be forced to—

“Dimi, earth to Dimitri?” There are hands on his shoulders; but they are so much different than the ones in his sleep. These are warm, even though they are gripping the fabric of his hoodie and not his skin. Staring into his eyes are the warm greens of Claude’s eyes—Dimitri’s own would blink, then, he can feel his face heats up upon realizing the proximity between the two of them.

“Can I wake you up during your early breakfasts?” He blurts out, knowing that at least this way he is rather disturbed that he doesn’t need to think about the ghosts. Claude’s expression changes at different times, Dimitri can note each of the changes due to their faces (still) close to one another. There is the look that Dimitri can guess is a ‘no, don’t do that’ but then his face shifts into something else, almost like an understanding look.

But Claude doesn’t say anything, instead, he nods. The grip on both of Dimitri’s shoulders relaxed as Claude would smile at him, now much more lethargic than the ones he had when he was still eating his food. “I can’t say no to that, knowing the consequences if I don’t have time for suhoor,”

“Oh, that’s what you call the breakfast part?” He notes them in his mind by now, it’s better to remember those than thinking about what comes in his nightmares, it’s better to ignore the way there is something in the corner of their room too. Ramadan is the month, suhoor is breakfast, and iftar is when they finally stop (or pause?) their fasting. Okay. He’s learning.

Claude hums out a reply, most likely a ‘yes’ seeing as Dimitri can see the glint of excitement in the other’s eyes again, “You’re my lifesaver this Ramadan, Dimitri,” Claude says. Even though he looks like he is close to going back to sleep, his smile is already bright enough this time. Dimitri thinks the sun is about to rise up from that smile alone.

He doesn’t know if Claude realizes this or not, but Claude has become Dimitri’s own lifesaver too.

**Author's Note:**

> yell at me on twitter, i might talk about them when prompted @thedueis.


End file.
